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Updated: May 1, 2025
Then came a surprise which roused the whole city. From out of the parish prison appeared another Italian, a counterfeiter, who had recently been arrested, and who proved to be a Pinkerton detective "planted" among the Mafiosi for a purpose.
Nominally high wages were offset by the various deceptions open to an ingenious management; prices were higher here than elsewhere; the coat-rooms were robbers' dens infested by Italian mafiosi; tips were extravagant and amounted in effect to ransom; and each meal-check was headed by an illegible scrawl which masked an item termed "service."
When our spies enter the prison, if they do, it will be in a way to inspire confidence among the Mafiosi. Meanwhile, do you think you are entirely safe in that foreign quarter?" "Quite safe, although the situation is trying. I have felt the strain almost as deeply as my unfortunate sister." "And when it is all over you will be ready for your vows?"
Within two days the city had regained its customary calm. It had, in fact, settled down to a more placid mood than at any time since the murder of Chief Donnelly. Immediately after the lynching the citizens had dispersed to their homes. No prisoners except the Mafiosi had been harmed, and of those who had been sought not one had escaped.
"That's not so easily done. There is no certainty that they would make damaging admissions." "Men who dwell constantly with thoughts of their guilt feel the need of talking. The mind is incapable of continued silence; it must communicate the things that weigh it down. Let the imprisoned Mafiosi mingle with one another freely whenever ears are open near by, and you will surely get results."
"I will tell you something that no one knows but myself, I have a friend among the Mafiosi, and it is he, not I, who has brought the murderers of Mr. Donnelly to an accounting." "You know him?" "Yes. At least I think I do." "His name?" She was staring at him oddly. "I feel bound not to reveal it even to you.
As an instance of its workings, all fruit-growers hereabouts are obliged to maintain watchmen, in addition to their regular employees. Otherwise their groves will be robbed. These guards are Mafiosi. Let us say that one of us opposes this monopoly. What happens? He loses his crop in a night; his trees are cut down.
Although the picture was fleeting, it caught his attention. The thought occurred to him that these men were Italians, and therefore possible Mafiosi, but his mood was too optimistic to permit of silly suspicions. To-night the Mafia seemed decidedly unreal and indefinite. He found himself smiling again at the memory of an argument in which he had been worsted by Myra Nell.
"You don't really think there has been any mistake?" "Eh? How could that be possible? Did not Signore Blake remember him?" Norvin was about to disclaim his part in the affair, but the speaker ran on: "I fear you must regard all us Italians as Mafiosi, Signore Blake, but it is not so. No! We are honest people, but we are terrorized by a few bad men. We do not know them, Signore.
"Whether he calls himself Cardi or something else makes no difference; there has been an intelligence of a high order at work among the Mafiosi and the banditti of this neighborhood for many years.
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